Rescue
by IanDonyer -ChrisAvrich
Summary: ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS.
1. Rescue The Glamorous Gengar

**RESCUE  
A Pokemon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 1: Rescue The Glamorous Gengar**

The crowd roared wildly, their bodies writhing and twisting in tune to the beat of the drums, the twang of the electric guitar and even the crash of the cymbals.

__

"Even if Arceus himself holds me back,  
baby, I ain't cuttin' him any slack!  
If I have to cut through  
A horde of Raichu!  
Heh, hell, babe...  
I wouldn't give 'em the time!  
Let's go!  
I'd travel through the Heavens themselves  
If it meant seein' your face just one more time...  
So don't worry, baby!  
I'm comin' for you!  
I'll rescue you!"

The music stopped for a moment, and only the cacophony of the crowd hit the ears of them all.

Then the drums started off, banging in tune, followed by the light thump of the bass, then the musical melodies of the lead guitar, and finally the light hum of the vocalist. Then a forceful bang of the drums, cue for the musicians to burst up again, and the crowd went into a hysterical state for the song's instrumental finish.

And then the music died out with the last few crashes of the drums. The camera panned out, and showed the handsome face of the young reporter, a grin plastered upon his lips.

"And there we go my friends; the smash hit, 'Rescue', by The Glamorous Gengar! Happy New Year, folks! Back to you, Chet."

"Thanks, Jose. This finishes our coverage of the Richard Rancure New Years Event in National Park! Have a good night folks, and more importantly, a great year!"

* * *

Backstage, Vocalist Christopher Evans, Lead Guitarist Emily Patin, Bassist George "Scooter"Allison, and Drummer Maya Krauser were all in their respective gender dressing rooms; the girls removing their fancy stage makeup and changing into more comfortable clothing, the guys... well, just changing into more comfortable clothing.

They all stepped out at virtually the same time, grinning from ear to ear.

Scooter was the first to speak up, thrusting a fist outward toward Chris, who fist bumped him in return.

"Man!" he exclaimed. "Talk about rockin' out..."

"We're just a bunch'a newbies, too," Maya chimed in. "Imagine when we get famous...'er."

Chris nodded. "Yeah. But forget 'bout that for now - I'm 'bout to starve, so let's get some grub and head on home."

Emily issued a giggle at that. "Sounds just like you, Chris – but for once, I agree. I'm starvin'. Let's drive by JBF."

The group nodded their agreement, and they pushed through the crowd of backstage groupies, heading toward their small car. It was a crowded little space for four teenagers, but they loved it because it was broken down, a total clunker; also known as a perfect disguise.

Their plan was simple enough: drive by JBF (Johto-Bred-Foodstuffs) in disguise (each of them had wigs of different hair color and shades just for the purpose of public appearance) and grab the grub, then bolt toward their pad in Goldenrod.

For the rest of the night they talked. They discussed their fame, their potential fortune... the guys discussed the potential pieces of tail they would definitely be getting, and the girls scowled at this, causing the guys to burst into laughter. But of course this turned out to be contagious, and even the girls couldn't stop themselves from giggling.

By midnight, Maya had gone to sleep, leaving Scooter, Chris and Emily alone. They decided to spend their time quietly going through some of Chris's ideas for songs, Emily and Scooter gently strumming their acoustic guitars they kept at their tiny home, Chris humming the lyrics.

Overall, they were happy.

* * *

Logically, Maya was the first one to awaken the next morning. Oddly enough it was with a bit of a headache... perhaps the loudness of the concert that previous night had given her this: or it was just one of those "holy crap I slept too long" headaches. She wouldn't be surprised at either... considering she usually got a lot less sleep than she did last night.

But either way, she got up out of the bed and let loose a yawn and a stretch. Her long lavender hair gently tickled the bare skin exposed by her nightgown on her back and she brushed it away with a hand; then she simply sighed.

"Today's gonna be a good one here in Goldenrod, folks! New Year's Day, and a bright and sunny one! Odd for other regions, but here in sunny Johto, it's just perfect!" the radio called out. She reached over to snap it off, and allowed herself to smile.

She supposed she would head out today. Use the whole wig-'n'-sunglasses outfit and all.

She stripped and hopped into the shower to allow herself to wake up, then got out and dressed herself in a simple pair of jeans, white blouse and white cap, slipped on her sunglasses and the wig beneath the hat, grabbed her purse then headed out the front door.

* * *

Scooter was the next to wake up that day. He was rather energetic, leaping out of bed and sliding toward the shower. He hopped out a couple minutes later, dried himself off and slipped into a pair of sweatpants (he always liked them, even though it was the middle of April) and a tanktop. He then headed for the kitchen to whip himself up some breakfast.

* * *

Chris was the third. His routine pretty much followed Scooter's to the dot, so much so that they even got to the kitchen at about the same time.

And they both got the phone call at the same time, too.

It was at 11:00 AM on the dot that, as the two were eating breakfast in the kitchen, that Scooter got up from the table with his plate in hand (Chris was a total bacon hog, so he didn't want to leave his plate unguarded) to answer the ringing of their home phone. He set his plate down on the counter where the phone was, and picked it up off the receiver.

"Yo, this is the Allison home. How can I help ya?"

"Hello, George."

"... Oh," Scooter murmured. This was odd. No one, not even his family, referred to him by his first name. The voice was also deep, as if modified mechanically. "Hi. Who is this?"

"I have her, George."

Scooter glared over at Chris for a moment. He was about to hang up the phone, figuring this to be some loony, but when the "loony" spoke his next words, his heart froze.

"Go on, go on and check. Your precious Maya is in my hands now."

Immediately, Scooter put the phone down onto the counter, but not into the receiver.

"Chris! Go up and check on Maya- -now-."

Chris, hearing a tone of voice that echoed seriousness Scooter had never exhibited before, leaped up out of his chair and rushed for the room that sheltered their bandmate.

Scooter picked up the phone once again and pressed it too his ear.

"She won't be there, George."

"Who the hell is this?"

"Would you like to speak to her?" the voice asked.

"I will in a minute, you crazy bastard, once she gets down from her room."

Chris, however, returned just then with a note in his hand.

"She said she'd be going out for a bit," Chris said. "She should be back around one, she said... what's wrong, Scooter?"

Scooter's face paled. "... Let me speak to her."

Almost immediately, a slightly labored breathing different from the other one went through.

"... S-..scoo..scooter...?"

"Maya! Oh, god, where are you?"

"It's him, Scooter... Ri-"

Before she could finish, she screamed after a light thumping sound. She had been pushed over, Scooter thought. He flinched.

"What do you want, you sick ****?"

"I want a favor," she said. "And I feel you three are the best to do it."

"I'll call the police on you-"

"George, my friend..." the voice crooned. "Don't think I wouldn't hesitate to kill your friend."

Scooter flinched again. "What's the favor?"

"I'm assuming you've heard the Bell Tower legends?"

"Of course... Ho-Oh and the Three Legendary Beasts."

"Right. Subtract Ho-oh from the equation and we've got ourselves a deal, dear old Georgie." the voice said.

"... The Three Legendary Beasts?"

"That's right. Track them and catch them, then turn them in to me. Only then will I give you Maya."

"... But they're -legends-, you psycho! We can't do-"

"You know the deal, George. The beasts or your girlfriend's life."

_click_

* * *

**Author's Notes: So, there we go. The first chapter of Rescue! I can't promise regular updates, as I never do with my fics, but I can at least say they'll be once-a-month, and likely more than that. Hope you guys enjoyed the read, and please don't hesitate to drop in a review!**


	2. The Haunting Beginnings

**Rescue**

**A Pokemon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 2: The Haunting Beginnings**

* * *

"You're SURE it was Maya, Scooter?" Chris murmured, his face as pale as a ghost.

"It was unmistakable, Chris. He's really got her... and he expects us to do something impossible to get her, too..." Scooter replied.

Emily got up from her chair slowly, grabbing it by the top and heaving it away. It landed on the other side of the dining room, cracking and splintering. The girl could be frightening when she was angry...

"Damn it! What the hell do we do, boys? That poor girl can barely defend 'erself, 'n' we sure as hell can't risk reporting this to the police!"

Chris got up to his feet and placed a hand on Emily's shoulder. The girl collapsed into her band mate's arms and allowed herself to cry. "Hey, hey... calm down, Emily, we'll figure out somethin'..." he whispered while gently stroking her hair, rocking from side to side in an attempt to soothe.

Scooter looked at them for a moment and sighed. The four were the best of friends – and the band had come together through boyfriend and girlfriend pairs. Chris had been Emily's boyfriend, now fiance, so he wasn't surprised at them. But it was Scooter's own girlfriend that was now in danger, and he was trying his hardest to think of a plan to get her in his sights again.

"... I suppose we'll have to go through with this loony's demands, guys," Scooter said.

The two looked at Scooter as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.

"... Scooter, we're not trainers or anything -close-. How do you 'spect us to do anything like that? Even if the beasts WERE real?" Emily asked.

"... Your old man," Chris whispered.

Scooter nodded. "We'll go to him. I don't wanna do it, but I think our only hope is to trick this loony. Find out his location, tell him we have these legends, and after some training from my old man, go in there, beat ass and find and save Maya."

Emily was still looking at Scooter as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.

So Scooter pointed toward the fourth seat at the table. "Sit, Emily. We'll explain."

So Emily allowed herself to sit down and stare at Scooter, waiting for an explanation.

"My father is named Phillip Mortenio Allison," Scooter started off. "Do you recognize it?"

"... It sounds familiar. I can't quite put my finger on it, though," Emily muttered.

Chris smiled slightly. "I guess you'd recognize him better under his nickname."

"Which is?"

"Morty."

"... Of Ecruteak"

Scooter nodded. "He retired almost ten years ago, and he's barely been heard of in the public since."

Emily's eyes widened.

"He's currently at the outskirts of Ecruteak. If we take the car, we should be out there within the next few hours."

Emily stood up, followed by Chris, then a hesitant Scooter. Chris placed a hand on Scooter's shoulder.

"Let's go."

* * *

The three rolled into the dirt-paved "driveway" of Phillip Allison, their car clanking and cluttering as it slowed to a stop. The three hopped out of the car almost immediately after, though Emily looked a bit groggy – she had been sleeping the majority of the drive.

Scooter looked at his father's house with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. It was a dilapidated old place, looking like one of those haunted houses in old movies. It was large and brown, two floors with all but one window totally boarded up. The one window that wasn't had the glass in smudged and broken in a few places, barely visible through.

He knocked gently on the rough wooden door.

Eerily, almost instantly, the door swung open to reveal a short set man, wearing a pair of white khaki pants, a brown belt and a purple tee. He swiveled a little as he stood, almost as if it was difficult for him. However, this contrasted to his piercing gaze, but as Emily and Chris stepped backward a bit, Scooter stood stoic.

"... George," the man murmured, reaching a hand up to brush a strand of yellow hair out of his eyes. His other hand rested firmly on the cane beneath it; perhaps the only reason he was able to stand. "... Excuse me. Scooter, wasn't it, you preferred?"

"Yeah, dad." Scooter said.

"How have you been, son?" the man asked. "I hear you've been rather successful with your band and all – speaking of which, are these two part of it?"

"Yeah, dad," Scooter responded. "Emily and Chris, meet my dad – Morty Allison."

"A pleasure, sir," the two chimed in sync.

"Yes, yes. Please, you three... feel free to come in." Morty said, turning his body to an angle and pointing to the dingy inside of his home. A voice called out from it just then.

"Dear, who is it?"

"You'll see, dove."

The four of them walked inside. As seen, the inside of the place was dingy, most of the dirtiness almost imprinted into the walls and ceiling. The floor, however, was as spotless as wood could be. Scooter allowed himself a smile; that was the nature of his mother he had known. He supposed she had just gotten a little careless for other things in her old age.

The four walked into the living room of the home. It too was dirty, but the furniture was also kept as clean as a whistle. A woman with a head of long, pink hair with a few grays mixed in sat on the couch, a smile plastered on her lips.

"Oh, Scooter!" she spoke, almost leaping up from the couch. "Oh, how long has it been? Come to visit your old parents, hm?" She spoke while moving toward him and drawing him into an embrace.

Chris whispered to Emily, "That's Scooter's mom. Also a gym leader – her name's Whitney."

Emily nodded.

Scooter hugged his mother tight, so much so that she groaned and drew back.

"Oh boy," she whispered. "That strength, too... you've grown into a strong young man!"

Scooter beamed. "Yeah, mom. Gotta keep up the appearances for the crowd. Right, Chris? Emily?"

The two nodded in response.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'd forgotten! These are your friends from the band, aren't they?"

Scooter nodded, and Whitney moved over to the two of them, and drew them in for a quick embrace.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the three- Oh, excuse me, two of you..."

Scooter visibly flinched.

"Yes, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too," Chris said, and Emily simply nodded again.

"Quiet girl, aren't you?" Whitney said.

"Oh, it's just..."

Whitney shook her head. "I was like you in my younger days. It's okay, I understand."

Emily let her assume, and the four moved toward the various articles of furniture, all but Whitney and Scooter moving to separate ones; Chris stood, Emily took one chair near the television, and Morty sat on another near their empty fireplace.

"So, what'd you kids come and visit us for? I'm assuming you have better things to do than come hang out with old biddies like me and old coots like Scooter's father!" Whitney asked.

Scooter remained silent, and Emily continued with her own streak. So Chris was the one to speak up here.

"We've come to you to ask a favor."

The two elderly trainers looked at Chris expectantly.

And so he explained it up until the phone call, when Morty let loose a barking, "WHAT?"

Scooter spoke for his father then. "In his younger days, dad was an avid hunter of Ho-Oh."

Morty nodded swiftly, his eyes ablaze with sudden fiery excitement. "And they're more than legend, son – I saw Suicune with my own eyes."

"Indeed he did," Whitney chimed in. "And of course, there are a lot of eyewitness accounts of the revival of the beasts all that time ago... how long has it been, dear?"

"Twenty years," Morty said.

"Right. Twenty years... when that Gold fellow was exploring the area. Ah-ha, I remember how frustrated he got with Milky..."

"Ranting, dove," Morty said.

"Right, right, forgive me..."

"... Anyways," Chris said. "Whether it's true or not, we need to do something. Maya is in danger."

Morty nodded, grabbed his cane and stood up. "Follow me, Scooter. The rest of you, stay here."

Scooter popped up to his feet and followed his father out toward the backdoor. Once they got there, they walked through the backyard until they reached a small hut.

The hut was almost a smaller clone of the house; large, brown and dingy, but with the inside as clean as a whistle, odd contrasts that only the two of them were used to. Inside were a multitude of cubbyholes, each with a label on it, but only three were occupied.

And those three were occupied by Pokemon.

"We work with the Daycare Couple down below Goldenrod for a little extra cash that the League won't provide. Pays the bills, you know? These three were actually abandoned by their trainers, and so we've been looking after them until we can find them three -new- trainers. Heh."

Scooter nodded. He understood completely.

The three Pokemon leaped out of their respective holes and lined up almost as if to present themselves to Scooter.

The one on the right was an odd looking brown Pokemon, kind of plump with a bone in his hand, and a skull worn as a helmet on his head.

"Cubone," Morty said to confirm his suspicion.

The one in the middle was a small blue Pokemon with green leaves atop its head.

"Oddish," Morty identified it as.

The one on the left was another small brown Pokemon, but this was not bipedal; it stood in all fours, its bushy tail wagging behind it, big ears curled up eagerly, small black-button eyes looking up at him as if saying, "Choose me, choose me!"

And he couldn't help but listen. Almost immediately, he pointed to the thing.

"Dad, I want that one."

"Eevee?" Morty responded. "I expected you to take Cubone. But fine." He reached into a small drawer in the corner of the room, and pulled out a Pokeball. He returned the Pokemon and handed the ball to Scooter.

"Now go get one of your friends."

In the end, the decisions were what Scooter had expected: He, of course, picked Eevee. He'd always had a soft spot for the cute ones. Chris had picked the Cubone, as it was one of the most physical, and Emily had been stuck with the one left – but she seemed satisfied with Oddish.

The three now sat on the couch in the living room, while Whitney and Morty sat on the two chairs.

"I'll take the boys," Morty said.

"Then I'll take Miss Emily, then!" Whitney responded.

"Alright then. It's decided. Children, your training starts tomorrow."


	3. Dumb and Angry and Drunk, oh my!

**RESCUE**

**A Pokemon Fan Fiction**

**The Beginners Arc – Chapter 3: Dumb and Angry and Drunk, oh my! **

**Principle 1: "Catch"!**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: A series of dashes is a move from tutor to tutor for this particular chapter. The three bandmates are being taught in totally difference places. Breaks in scene are the usual big line. Just thought I'd clarify.**

"Alright!" Morty boomed, one hand on his hip while the other stood on his cane. "Tell me what you children know about Pokemon Training!"

"... Well," Chris said. "Trainers are people who-"

"I said to tell me what you know about -training-, nitwit. Not -trainers-."

"But wouldn't-"

"No, it wouldn't! Do you really not know?" Morty demanded, and before he got an answer, he sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you."

He lifted up a single finger.

"The three basic principles of Pokemon Training are as follows..."

–- - - - - - - - - -–

Whitney lifted up a single finger, thrusting it in front of her and grinning at Emily. "Deary, the first principle is 'Catch'. Every trainer needs to know how to catch a Pokemon!"

–- - - - - - - - - -–

Morty pulled up a second finger. "The second principle is 'Raise'. How do you expect to be a good trainer without knowing how to raise your team? Raising is divided into three subcategories."

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"Caretaking," Whitney said. "Of course, you need to know how to take care of them! Trainers are responsible for the health 'n' happiness of their Pokemon. Trainers are expected to feed them, groom them, get them checkups at Pokemon Centers, and give them love and affection. Some trainers think that abusing Pokemon will make them stronger – I don't believe this and you shouldn't either. "

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"Building Strength and Skill," Morty continued. "Just caretaking is fine if your plan is to raise Pokemon. But if you want to raise -battling- Pokemon, you need to learn how to make them physically stronger and making them more adept at battling."

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"And finally, Evolving. Most Pokemon go through at least one dramatic change in form, where they'll look different physically, grow stronger and learn new things easier – or perhaps harder, in some cases," Whitney said. "Now, the third principle is..."

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"Obviously, -Battle-! You can have one of the others on their own, or combined, without this, but you can't have this without the other two. Remember that! A battle is a determination of the other two area's effectiveness – whether you treat your Pokemon right, and how well you train it, depends on how well you'll battle! Get it?"

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"Got it?"

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"Good," Morty nodded toward the two boys as they nodded back. "Now, we're going to be going over these three principles in bare detail first off. Then we'll be working on them in more detail. Got it?"

The boys nodded again. "Got'cha," Scooter said.

"So then, what do you think the first thing we'll be working on is?" Morty asked.

"'Catch'," Chris responded.

"Yep. And how do you think we'll be training you on this?"

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"... Uhm, probably making us catch something in a controlled environment," Emily said. "Right?"

"Very very wrong, deary.~" Whitney said, a sly grin plastered on her lips.

"Then..."

–- - - - - - - - - -–

"Got it, sir..." Chris said, gulping. He was oddly nervous for this – he had never done anything even remotely close. He also found it funny... he wasn't afraid to sing in front of a crowd of thousands, but he was afraid to go out and catch a Pokemon.

* * *

Emily was the first one to get out of the house, a Pokeball provided by Whitney in hand. She gulped in breathe and walked off toward the neighboring Route, east of the city. It wasn't that long a walk, at the longest half an hour... she would be there quick.

And she was. She admired the beauty of the area... it was full of lush patches of grass, a tan sort of soil, and a wide blue lake directly in front of her: to her right, a forest, large and green trees dotting the landscape, while to her left, a large mass of black-ish rock stood. A cave. She shuddered, not at all wanting to head into such a dark and dank place.

"Alright, Emily..." she murmured, tipping up her hat so she could see a little better. "Time to find yourself a Pokemon..."

She walked over to a nearby patch of grass a couple feet wide, about as tall as up to her waist. She waded through it for quite a while before she finally accidentally kicked something – she watched as a purple blur flashed by her, and she shrieked in surprise.

It was an Ekans, and it had escaped. She was almost thankful for it... the snake Pokemon always sort of gave her the creeps. She let loose a sigh of relief and continued to look through it to find herself the Pokemon she deemed right to battle and catch.

Almost another half hour passed, and her legs were getting tired, until they accidentally thunked against the rough hide of some creature. She looked down to see, in what she could see, a small blue creature rolling out from a curled up formation, a long blue snout attached to the face which held absolutely adorable eyes.

She jumped back and immediately tossed forward her own Pokeball. A bright red beam of energy burst forward and she let loose a sigh of exhaustion; here was her chance.

"...py?" the creature inquired, standing up and looking at the Oddish that materialized from the red light then at Emily. "Py phan phan!"

"Odddd..." Oddish responded.

"Oddish! Attack it once!" Emily commanded, and so the Pokemon would do, the blue creature glowing a light shade of green alongside Oddish, An Absorb Attack. Emily allowed herself a smile... things were going smoothly so far.

The blue creature merely stood there, a bit of a dazed look in its eyes.

"... Alright, uhm, try that again Oddish!" Emily said. Once again, the blue creature glowed a light shade of green and Oddish did too, as energy was transferred from one subject to the other. The creature continued to stand there, and even wobbled a little.

Emily hit the release switch on the empty Pokeball and tossed it forward, where it hit the creature on the head and sucked it inside with a beam of red light, then fell on the ground and shut tight. There was no attempt made to escape; it sat there in the Pokeball, immediately caught.

Emily picked up the ball as she felt a sense of amazing accomplishment. It was hers. She now had a Pokemon... albeit one that was looking out to be a very lazy, carefree Pokemon, but a Pokemon she had caught on her own.

She sighed, returned Oddish and stuck both balls into her pockets. Then she simply walked off.

* * *

Chris was the next one to get out, and he wasn't quite sure what to do. He stepped outside the house and thrust his hands in his pockets, a cap just low enough over his eyes to conceal them but high enough so he could see, and began to walk. He had no particular destination, but he walked, allowing the wind to take him to where he was supposed to be.

It turned out to be a strategy that worked.

Ecruteak could very well be considered a "retirement city"; not officially, though, as the only officially recognized one was Agate Village in Orre. But this did not mean that it was a quiet one... far from it, in fact. It was quite a busy little city these days, full of all sorts of businesses for the old folk and their children or grandchildren. Various restaraunts of low costs, carts full of fruit, flower stands, the Kimono Girls show – Chris remembered seeing them on television once in a biography, and found them a lot uglier in their older age than in their younger days – and of course, various trainer facilities such as the centers or Marts.

He sighed, walking toward a fruit stand and pulling some money out of his pocket. He figured he may as well have something to snack on while figuring just what to do.

"Hey, ya stupid lil' mongrel, get away from the stand! I ain't lettin' ya do this -again-, so ya- HEY!"

Chris glanced up and saw just what was going on. Near the cart was a cackling purple creature, floating just above it, one of his pincers snapping fiercely, the other holding a few berries, and a stinger jabbing forcefully at the heavyset man behind the stand. The man jumped back and the purple creature cackled.

"... And here's your idea, Chris," he muttered. He thrust his money back down into his pocket and pulled out a small red and white orb. He pressed the silver button in the center and the orb expanded, releasing a bright red light that materialized into the small, plump creature called Cubone.

"... A Pokemon Trainer!" the Cart Manager cried. "Good! Help me out here, I'll give ya anything ya ask for! Just help!"

Chris nodded. "Alright," he said. "Let's attack it, Cubone! Knock those berries away!"

Cubone leaped up and tossed the bone in his hand forward, and Chris watched in amazement as the bone zoomed toward the creature's pincer-hand and knocked into it, all but one berry being knocked out onto the cart.

The Pokemon glared angrily at Cubone and rushed toward him, only to get hit by a returning bone. Chris nodded slowly: he just remembered the Bonemerang attack. Cubone caught the bone and held it in front of him, his body at an angle. Chris had to admit, that was a pretty badass little Pokemon. He grinned and continued to watch his Pokemon do its magic.

After recovering from the second strike, the purple-pincer Pokemon whose name still evaded Chris

rushed forward again, stinger extended and jabbing toward Cubone. Cubone lifted up his bone and used it as a guard against the attack.

"Attack again, Cubone!" Chris said. He really only had basic knowledge of battles – he didn't know many attack names, so telling Cubone to "attack" was the best he could do.

He watched as Cubone then grabbed the stinger of the purple Pokemon and brought it down to the ground. Its pincer squished through the one berry it had, its yellow skin breaking and blue juices flowing out. The Pokemon thrust the berry into its mouth and chewed, before breaking free of Cubone's grip and floating back up again.

"He ate a Sitrus!" the Cart Manager said. "It's probably got some restored vitality..."

Chris nodded. "Got it! Cubone, attack it again!"

Cubone didn't listen. Instead, he tossed his bone into the air for a moment and began a barbaric pounding of his own stomach, beating it like a drum. After a few moments, his body was quivering and it reached up to catch it.

"... What the heck was that, Cubone?" Chris asked.

The Mart Manager clarified it for him. "C'mon, trainer! Know your own Pokemon's attacks – that was a Belly Drum! Gives more power in exchange for some vitality!"

"... Right."

The UFP – unidentified flying Pokemon – rushed forward and lifted back one of its pincers, and it burst into a black aura. The black-aura covered claw sliced across Cubone's stomach, leaving a small cut that instantly spilled a small amount of blood.

Cubone was panting, now. But he lifted up his bone and tossed it forward to what Chris assumed to be another Bonemerang attack. He was wrong. The bone simply thwacked against the rough hide of the purple Pokemon's head and knocked it to the ground. Cubone ran forward and caught the bone, before lowering it onto the Pokemon's stomach, smashing it forcefully downward.

Chris, at this point, recalled Cubone and removed an empty Pokeball from his pocket. He pressed the silver switch in the center then tossed it toward the dazed purple creature, and watched as a red beam of light sucked it inside then snapped the ball shut. It hit the ground with a thud and began to roll around.

"You did it! You beat the little mongrel! Thanks, trainer, thank ya so much!" the Cart Manager said happily. "What can I ever do 'ta repay ya?"

Chris ignored him, picking up the now still Pokeball. He cared little for rewards: for some odd reason, the sense of pride in this work, this new Pokemon he could call his own, was enough payment for him. He stuck both Pokeballs into his pocket and walked away.

* * *

Scooter was the last one to get out, having spent a bit of time before leaving to allow himself some bonding time with his mother and father – it had been at least three years since he last bothered to go see them, and he dearly regretted it.

But now he was out of the house and working toward ideas of where to go and just what to do. He decided to simply walk around and explore Ecruteak some while thinking... and when he did, he came across a building made in an old-world fashion, very well resembling an old temple compared to modern day buildings. A sign hung outside advertised the Kimono Girls: Scooter smiled slightly and pulled some money out of his pocket, and walked inside.

"A disturbance? Alright, I'll send security to check it out," he heard immediately as he stepped in. He looked around the small, tan, wooden area to see a man behind a desk, a phone in his hand. The man was tall and a bit on the skinny side, and his face was as pale as if he had just seen a ghost. "Wait, what do you mean security can't do anything about it? It's just a dumb Pokemon!"

Scooter stepped forward toward the desk and extended his hand with the fee in it toward the man. The man pointed toward the back, not accepting the toll – in the back, a sign read...

_HOURS_

_MONDAY-FRIDAY: 12:00 PM – 7:00 PM_

_SATURDAY: 9:00 AM – 5:00 PM_

_SUNDAY: CLOSED_

It was a Saturday. He looked at the digital clock on the wall above the sign, and saw it was 4: 55. He sighed, and realized that he was too late to see a show... it was a bit of a disappointment. He intended to watch and calm himself, allowing himself to think more clearly. But he supposed he could do something else – then it hit him.

He thrust his hand into his pocket and removed Eevee's Pokeball.

"Couldn't help but overhear you need some help," he said with a grin.

The man behind the desk flashed a smile, and spoke into the phone. "Jack, think I've managed to find us a saviour. Thanks." He thrust the phone into the receiver, and nodded toward Chris.

"What'll it take ya to help us out here?" he asked.

Scooter had already thought that out beforehand. He figured it would be a nice treat to see such a calming show, so he simply said, "Free passes. Three people of my choice, to see a show tomorrow."

"Hell, guy, you got it. That's easy enough," the man said. "So, the problem is a Pokemon. Yeah. It's a psychic type, so it can talk to us, and boy's it screamin'... we haven't gotten the chance to look close, but that's because he's totally trashing the place. Oddly enough, it's the cafeteria it's trashing... we think it got into the sake and he's drunk..."

The place was a school now, Scooter remembered. It did shows for the public, and behind closed doors tutored young women in the arts: a Coordinator's school.

"FOOLISH MORTALS," a voice boomed in their heads. "I WILL FIND YOUR ELIXIR AND DEVOUR IT ALL FOR MYSELF! IT IS MINE! AND WITH IT, I WILL CONQUER THE WORLD! BUA..HA...HA..HA! HAHA!"

"... Either that or batshit insane," the man said, and Scooter stifled a laugh. Within a couple of seconds, they arrived at the door of the cafeteria. The man stepped back and Scooter pushed open the door... his eyes widened.

Dust floated in the air, clouding the majority of the room – but what was visible was completely and totally destroyed. Wood splinters were everywhere, a red substance ran on the ground – not light enough to be blood, probably some odd juice – and the walls had small holes in them.

Scooter ran through and tossed his Pokeball forward. It was then he realized...

… the destruction was just limited to the doorway. He slapped a palm against his forehead and slid it down as if it were to delete all of his woes. Eevee pranced around on the ground next to him.

"WHO HAS ARRIVED IN MY LAIR?" the voice boomed again. "I WILL BE FORCED TO REMOVE THEM!"

Whatever this creature was, it sounded intimidating, he had to admit. He tensed up as he heard the sounds of heavy footfall on creaky wooden floors. He braced himself to fight one hell of a challenger, and hater of doorways.

He nearly burst out into laughter when he saw the culprit.

It was a small pink creature, a glazed over look in its eyes. Obviously drunk off of the sake stored in the Cafeteria for the shows. It was on all fours with a tail tipped in white – Scooter, having a bit of knowledge on Pokemon due to his parents, recognized it immediately as a Slowpoke.

"IT IS YOU, HMM? I WILL... I WILL... what'm I doing again?"

This time, Scooter -did- burst into laughter.

"FOOLISH MORTAL! YOU DARE LAUGH AT YOUR GOD? I WILL... MAKE YOU... uhm.. SUFFER!"

Instantly, Scooter felt a light thud against his ribs. A psychic push. He tensed up again and looked down to Eevee, who was continuing to prance around playfully.

"Eevee! I'm gonna need you to headbutt that thing! Be careful!" Scooter said.

Eevee stopped his prancing and instead moved forward in leaps and bounds, and collided head first into the pink creature. Slowpoke didn't seem effected by the attack, and in turn opened its mouth and spewed forth a blast of water. A Water Gun attack.

Eevee was hit and skidded backward, shaking off its fur a few seconds later.

"... Can take and dish some hits, apparently-"

"OH GOD THE PAIN," the Slowpoke screamed at him mentally.

"... Oh … 'kay …" Scooter whispered. "Eevee, headbutt it again, then get away from it!"

Eevee did so, slamming his head into the pink flesh and then leaping over him and over to where he couldn't be hit. A couple seconds pass before another sign of pain from the Slowpoke. This time, it collapsed onto the ground, groaning slightly.

Scooter pulled a Pokeball provided to him by his father and pressed the release switch, tossing the enlarged ball at Slowpoke and watching as it conked him on the head, sucked him into the ball by a flash of red light, then shut tightly and hit the ground.

No struggle was made. The Pokemon was his.

Scooter walked over to it, picked it up and grinned. He returned Eevee, then stuck both balls into his pockets, stuck his hands in with them and began to walk back toward the house.

* * *

The three new trainers now sat in the living room of the Allison home, all of their Pokemon released, each one cautiously clinging to their trainers – except for the three caught that day.

Gligar, as Morty identified the Pokemon, sat perched on top of a book shelf.

Phanpy sat there in a ball in the middle of the floor, fast asleep.

Slowpoke wasn't even out. Scooter was afraid to release him.

"... Gligar, Phanpy and Slowpoke, huh," Morty spoke because Whitney had gone into a fit of giggles at Scooter's story. She was still recovering. "Interesting enough. Well then – get some sleep, kids. We'll be starting on Principles 2 and 3 tomorrow."

* * *

**Author's Notes: Wow. I actually intended for Scooter to get Gligar and Chris to get Slowpoke – I just screwed up and typed up the scene with SCOOTER using Cubone. See the problem there? Yeah, I just didn't feel like going back to edit the entire scene to deal with Eevee, so I just switched 'em. I kinda like it better this way anyways now that I think about it.**

**A fun chapter to write! I hope you guys enjoy it! Please don't hesitate to drop in a review.**


	4. The Second and Third Principles

**RESCUE**  
**a Pokemon Fan Fiction**

**Beginners Arc – Chapter 4: The Second and Third Principles! "Care" and "Battle" - and.. Backyard Brawl!**

_The eyes of the creatures sparkled with the light of new life: they had long since made themselves dormant for purposes of rest. For years they had roamed the plains of Johto, and their energy had gone to the dumps._

_But now they hibernated for the proper year. And they were ready._

_They leaped from their resting place in sync, their manes billowing gracefully behind them: purple thunderclouds, white smoke, and the blue flow of water._

_And they hit the ground, and danced across the fields once more._

* * *

"YOU WILL WAKE UP AT PRECISELY NINE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING," Morty bellowed. "AND YOU WILL BE DRESSED BY NINE-FIFTEEN."

Chris, Emily, and Scooter all screeched their startled awakenings, leaping up to their feet and slamming their hands against their foreheads in a shoddy attempt at an army man's salute. They grunted in pain, fell backward in sync, and slammed against their beds again, groaning.

Scooter was the only one smart enough to check the clock. It was eleven o'clock in the morning – memories came back of this order given to them to awaken by nine. They had slept through the alarm clock, apparently.

Scooter hopped up to his feet again, and the others followed suit.

They saw a seething Morty at the door, held back from under the arms by a rather embarrassed looking Whitney.

"Do you not remember what I told you three...?" he asked slowly. "To wake up at nine o'clock in the morning, and be dressed by nine-fifteen. Breakfast will be done by nine-thirty. We will be training by ten – you're lucky the woman holds me back. You'd have been up by nine-oh-one."

He sighed, and broke free of Whitney with relative ease. "You have five minutes instead of fifteen. Breakfast will be a single Tepig Sausage Link along with two rolls. You will have five minutes to eat that. Five minutes to prepare yourself, and then more training will be done."

The three nodded swiftly and moved toward their packed clothing. Morty shut the door with a little more force than was probably necessary.

"Think we pissed off yer old man, Scooter," Chris said with a sigh. "Wonder how fun today'll be..."

"... When ya piss off dad," Scooter muttered. "He makes your day... not so fun."

Emily simply stood there, shaking her head while she grabbed a change of clothes to head into the bathroom, where she could change without being in the sight of the two boys.

The boys changed together, not really giving a damn. 

* * *

And the three finished their breakfast in a grand total of four minutes and fifty-five seconds. Morty timed them.

Then the five minutes passed of rest, and they were told to meet in the living room. They walked in to see Morty and Whitney sitting down on the couch, and Scooter plopped down next to them. Emily took one chair and Chris took the last one in the room.

"Release your Pokemon. All of them. This is the first lesson of today – care. You will bond with them. You are required to spend at least one hour in here with all of them out – and we will be in here to guard," Morty said firmly. Annoyance was evident in his voice.

"... Oh god," Scooter whispered, his eyes wide. "Oh god..."

"Do it, Scooter," Morty said. A bit of sympathy was then clouding his annoyance, and he placed a hand on his shoulder. "You may want to go and release this thing if it's... too hard to handle."

"... We'll see, I guess," Scooter said.

All three new trainers in the room moved to their feet and reached into their pockets. Each had two Pokeballs resting in them – they grabbed both at the same time, thrust their hands out in front of them, and allowed them to release. Scooter closed his eyes.

In front of Emily materialized two things: A blue ball with feet and leaves extending from its head, an Oddish – and a blue elephant Pokemon, adorable eyes attached to the face that also held its oddly large schnoz, Phanpy.

In front of Chris, a brown, plump Pokemon with a long bone in its right hand and a skull-helmet on its head, Cubone appeared. In mid-air, the purple Pokemon with pincers for hands, a stinger at the end of its tail and blue membranes on the wing-like structures below its arms: the Flyscorpion Pokemon, Gligar, came into life.

Scooter's breathing intensified. From his two Pokeballs shot forth a brown, furry Pokemon with large ears: the genetic Pokemon, Eevee, pranced happily around his feet. But closer by... a small pink Pokemon with a long tail that tipped off in white, and a cream colored muzzle.

Scooter braced himself, and as did all the others in the room. Six Pokemon released into a small room, two of them provably chaotic, was almost a death sentence.

Oddish leaped up into the chair Emily was sitting in and plopped down to its bottom, nuzzling up into a corner and watching the rest of the room.

Phanpy walked toward the center of the room, curled up into a ball and lay there.

Cubone looked up at Chris expectantly.

Gligar flew over to a bookshelf and took roost there, watching the rest of the room with mild interest flickering in its eyes.

Eevee continued to prance happily around Scooter's ankles, and then stood there waiting for something to happen.

Slowpoke sat there, totally still.

For a couple moments anyway.

"_GOOD EVENING, MORTALS!" _Slowpoke bellowed. _"How might you all be?"_

Whitney burst into laughter. Morty sighed.

Emily sat down in her chair again, picking up Oddish and setting her in her lap. She glared at Phanpy, and almost as if reading her mind, the Pokemon picked itself up and walked closer to her, nuzzling against her leg beore plopping down to the ground again.

Chris lowered himself into his seat and nodded toward Cubone, who leaped up and landed in his lap. He glared toward Gligar and Gligar glared back: but it flew over to his chair and perched on top instead of on the bookshelf.

"_Uhm, mortals? Why will none of you speak?" _Slowpoke asked.

Scooter sat down on the couch and picked up Eevee, holding the cat-like Pokemon close to him and stroking it. He growled gently in approval, burying his face in his chest in approval.

"Have some patience, Slowpoke," Scooter said. "Let everyone get used to this... we're new at it."

"_Haha!" _Slowpoke cackled after a few seconds. "_Ah, you mortals make life amusing..."_

Whitney was crying in laughter now. Morty simply sat there and massaged her back, sighing lethargically.

"So, dear, while these guys're bondin' with their new Pokemon, why don'tcha tell 'em the story?" Whitney inquired.

"What story?" Morty asked.

"You know! The last time you saw Suicune. With Eusine."

"Ah, right, right... miss that old man..." he muttered. "Anyways, would you like to hear it?"

"Sure," the three said – in different tones and at slightly different times, but it was basically their unanimous "Yes". 

* * *

Morty allowed himself a sigh, the rare sign of a mild annoyance with the man he considered his best friend. He stepped back and allowed him entry into his home.

The man, roughly five feet tall and dressed in a lavender tuxedo and a white cape, ran a hand through his slick brown hair to smooth it out a bit more (it was raining outside, so it had roughed up his hairstyle a bit), and then stepped inside in to the dry.

"What is it this time, Eusine? Better be good, dropping in at eight in the evening," Morty said.

"This is good, Morty. You need to come out and see this! One more expedition. I promise," Eusine said – a tone of legitimacy could be heard from him, so Morty let loose another sigh and moved toward his living room.

"Fine."

He walked into the place, and sat down next to the pink haired woman on his couch. He drew her in for a kiss on the forehead.

"Going off on another expedition, Morty?" she pouted.

"I'll be back later tonight. I won't go far, promise," he responded.

"... Fine," she sighed.

"See ya, dove," he said.

Morty prepared quickly, donning his usual outfit of a pair of white sweatpants, a purple shirt and a darker purple scarf (it was cold out in these months), along with a purple headband around his small head of yellow hair.

And so they headed out. The trip, apparently, wasn't that far - in fact, it was barely within a mile.

They arrived at a large hill about fifteen minutes walk away from Morty's home. The two of them climbed it, and walked down a small pathway.

They reached a wave; large, brown and dark, Morty found it odd that Eusine would take him to a place like this. Being a ghost trainer, he wasn't quite the one to be afraid of the dark. In fact, darkness was a key point of his gym. But Eusine was deathly afraid of it... if he was willing to go in here, it was probably a legitimate lead.

"Morty," Eusine said. "What you see here, you've got to promise me you won't ever tell a soul. -Ever-."

"... 'course," Morty said.

Eusine walked inside the cave and Morty followed suit. Darkness enveloped them for a couple of moments, but Eusine's Electrode lit the room.

"Lyra gave me the tip," Eusine said. "She said she saw them enter in here one day. So I came here, explored for a bit, and..."

What met Morty's eyes amazed him.

"I saw this."

They were in a circle, the three of them. In the middle lay the blue, flowing mane of the water beast, white dots glowing ever so slightly. At his right was the brown-furred beast with the mane of white smoke. On his left was the yellow beast with the thunderclouds on his back.

He was looking at the three legendary beasts, slumbering in front of him.

Almost instantly, they awakened.

Suicune stepped forward from the group, his eyes only half-way open. It was obviIous he was tired. Morty stood there for a couple of moments before saying something.

"Suicune. It's... it's alright. We won't hurt you. Go back to your rest-"

Suicune nudged against him for a moment, and all three beasts darted past them. They were obviously tired, but were still faster than the eye could catch: they were gone. 

* * *

"... So they're real, huh?" Chris asked.

"Real as you and me, boy. Legend doesn't necessarily mean false," Morty retorted.

Emily looked amazed at the story. Even Scooter was a bit awestruck - he had never heard this.

Chris picked up Cubone and set him aside.

"_This Suicune - he is nothing compared to my might!" _Slowpoke proclaimed after a momentary pause. "_I will destroy him! This is a promise!_"

"Be quiet, Slowpoke," Scooter said.

_"NEVER!"_

Whitney giggled uncontrollably.

Scooter sighed. "Alright, dad. I think I know what Chris is trying to say - enough of this stage. Let's move onto 'Battle'."

Morty sighed. "I had some more things planned for 'Care', but we'll do that later I suppose. Fine. I've got matchups already done. Let's head out to the back yard."

So the three of them returned their Pokemon and walked toward the backyard.

Morty was waiting on them, his arms folded over his chest, a stern look in his eyes. "It's time for phase three - 'Battle' - to begin! The three of you are assumed prepared, and if not -oh friggin' well-."

Whitney smiled, and the three young adults stood frozen. So it was time. Time for the battles to begin.

"First match-up: Chris versus Emily! Pitting boyfriend against girlfriend - you can not hold back!" Morty announced, almost sounding like the narrator of some cheesy cartoon instead of the militaryesque man he really was. "For in the battlefield, not a single person holds back for the enemy! Rules are simple: The first person to knock out or force the withdrawal of all the opponent's Pokemon wins! Withdrawal of a Pokemon you've already sent out means that Pokemon is no longer in play!"

Chris and Emily stepped up and moved a couple feet apart, staring at each other intently. They were nervous, but somewhat excited admittedly.

"GO!" Morty exclaimed, and both trainers thrust their arms forward, Pokeballs already prepared in them. Flashes of light illuminated the battlefield, and once the light faded away, two creatures materialized in the middle of the battlefield.

"Gligar, use-... crap, I don't know what he can use..."

Morty sighed, moving in between Chris's Gligar and Emily's Oddish. He reached into his pockets and extended both arms outward, holding one object in each hand. They were square and a deep shade of red.

"Minidex," Morty said. "Like the famous Pokedex, but less features. It's meant only for the purpose of telling a Pokemon's moves and their abilities - also linkable to give a semi-accurate gauge of durability and healthiness."

"Wow... pretty interesting," Chris mused as he grasped his, leaning forward a bit on his toes. Emily did the same.

"Continue!" Morty screamed, startling the three young adults and causing Chris to drop his Minidex. Chris sighed, leaned over and picked it up, flipping it open and examining the reading.

The entire screen was in monochrome. In the top right corner was a thin bar stretching about halfway across the minidex's screen. Below it, a list of moves, some abbreviated but not to the point where they could not be easily deciphered by a decent mind - and even if they couldn't, there was a small button in the bottom that said moves, which in all logical thinking, probably expand to include all moves non-abbreviated. Chris pressed it, and smiled, as he realized he was right.

He looked to Gligar and ordered the first command. "Headbutt, Gligar!"

Gligar leaned forward in mid-air and dived toward the opposing Oddish, his hand-wing-arm-things tucked in at his sides. He was like a bullet - and despite Emily's next command ("Dodge!") it could not be avoided that Gligar slammed into the face of the enemy and reeled backward, floating up just out of reach.

"Use Bullet Seed, Oddish!" Emily commanded. The woozy Pokemon flipped over in the grass and seemed to be taking the dirt into her mouth, then flipped back over and stood up, and revealed the reason why.

She had taken the soil into her mouth, chewed it, and formed it into the pellets that were now spewing out of her at almost blurring speeds. They connected firmly with Gligar's stomach, sending him driving upward into the air. They moved at enough speed for about five seeds to be seen as only one flash, so the group saw it as three hits - fifteen seeds - and Oddish stopped. Gligar, unable to keep balance in the air with the wind knocked out of him like it was, fell down to the ground with a thud. The impact was enough to knock him out almost instantly.

Chris blinked in surprise. "... Wow," he said. "... Impressive."

Emily seemed a bit taken aback by this incident herself. "... I... I s'pose so, huh?"

Chris allowed himself to smile though. He still had one Pokemon left. "... Girlfriend or not, like hell I'm gonna let you win, though."

He reached into his pocket and sent out Cubone next. Emily got the first order this turn.

"Sleep Powder, Oddish!" she yelled, and Oddish leaned forward, spouting a stream of tiny white particles toward Cubone.

But Cubone surprised her. He took his bone in his hands and began to twirl it like a baton, expertly wielding it so it served as a fan - and blew the stream in reverse. It hit Oddish and Oddish instantly fell back, dead asleep.

Emily grinned as well. "... Wow," she said. "Impressive." She purposefully imitated Chris. "Now, let's go, Phanpy!"

Chris would get the first order this round. "Alright! Iron Head, Cubone!"

Cubone closed his eyes, and the skull around his head flashed silver as if it were iron. He rushed forward and aimed to smack into Phanpy with it.

Incredibly, the normally lax Phanpy ran to the side and dodged. Cubone screeched to a halt and turned to face the opponent.

"Defense Curl, Phanpy!" Emily commanded, and Phanpy curled into a ball.

"Like that's going to help anything!" Chris said. "Cubone, run over to it and hit it with Bone Club!"

Cubone ran over to Phanpy and smacked him firmly with the bone - and it did not make the ball of blue flinch a bit, but instead begin to roll backward.

"... Sweet," Emily said. "Rollout, Phanpy!"

Phanpy began to curve around in a circle. It did this for almost ten seconds as it picked up a steady speed, and then rushed forward and hit Cubone square in the stomach and bounced off, rolling to the other side of the yard with an increased speed.

"Belly Drum, Cubone! Block the next hit!" Chris said, and Cubone began to pound its stomach for a couple seconds. It knocked the wind out of its own self, and for the remainder of the time it took the next phase of Rollout to come, Cubone spent it regaining his breathe. But he did, and placed his bone in front of him, one hand on each side, like a shield. The attack hit and bounced off the bone.

"Keep guarding 'till the combo ends!" Chris said, but the next rollout was too much. The bone slipped from Cubone's grasp, flapped against his face, and an even more powerful than before Rollout slammed right into Cubone's stomach, knocking him out instantly.

Chris returned his Pokemon, and eyed his girlfriend. She showed potential as an amazing trainer, he could already tell - but he needed some work. He sighed as Morty spoke.

"Chris loses! The victory goes to Emily Patin, a wonderful prodigy!" he exclaimed. Really, he needed to stop sounding like the whole cheesy narrator bit. "Our next battle is... Scooter versus Whitney!"

Scooter gaped. He would be facing his own mother. 

* * *

**Chapter Four of Rescue is out! Hope you guys enjoy it, for it might just be the only release I'll be able to get for it for a while. **

**Oh, and the text for some of this is showing up extremely small when I'm getting it in here. If it shows up that way when I post the actual chapter, it's not intentional: I just can't figure out how to change it. x_x; Sorry.**


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